


Prison of Iron

by ontoxay (xaymak), Teaj



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: enemy POV, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaymak/pseuds/ontoxay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaj/pseuds/Teaj
Summary: Nabooru is a prisoner within her own body, powerless to stop herself from fighting Link.
Kudos: 13





	Prison of Iron

**Author's Note:**

> Ontoxay is a Co-author of this piece! Just can't tag them as such atm (will fix later)
> 
> Written for weekly writing prompt 87 in the LU discord server: "Hero of Their Own Story: Rewrite a scene from a Zelda game from the antagonist’s point of view." While Nabooru isn't a villain, she is the antagonist in this fight.

Nabooru sat on the stone throne, staring at the faces of Koume and Kotake. She didn’t know why they were in the Spirit Temple again, and it was hard to care. For the last seven years, she had been a prisoner in her own mind. Only able to watch as her body acted under  _ their _ control, terrorizing citizens, leading raids, destroying the land—only able to watch as countless men and women tried to stand against her, unable to stop the fall of the axe. Only able to watch as Ganondorf used her to execute his foes.

Currently, she was acting as a bodyguard for her captors. Koume and Kotake had brought her back to the Spirit Temple. The witches had desecrated this holy place and made it their base. Every time they were here, they infused her body and mind with more of their magic. The dark magic had seeped through her skin, every fiber of her being locked in forced repose. 

Fighting, she’d learned, was pointless. She had tried to fight for years and it never worked. Whenever the magic seemed like it might weaken, they took her to where she was alone and redoubled it. The prison had only gotten stronger over the years, and her resolve only weaker. She would be their puppet for eternity.

She heard the door across the room open and saw a figure in green enter, though their form was largely blocked by the two witches in front of her so she didn’t have a clear view. Another minion here to give her orders? A fragment inside her raged at the thought, crying that no matter how much control they were given, she would never truly be their minion. 

The rest only simmered in resigned curiosity, wanting to see anything besides these two ugly hags. Something about the figure was familiar, but with her limited view she couldn’t place it. They drew a sword and the door behind them locked— a fool who would contest the witches, then. They weren't the first to try this, but it wouldn’t work. No matter the opponent’s skill, she won in the end when they tired. The magic could keep her going long after she should be exhausted. They would just be another victim she was helpless to save, forced to watch die at her hand.

Kotake looked over her shoulder to peer at the green figure. “Ho ho ho! Looks like someone is here, Koume.”

Koume mirrored her twin. “Hee hee hee!” Their laughs were grating, and Nabooru wished she could plunge her axe into them. “Looks like it, Kotake!”

“What an outrageous fellow he is to intrude so boldly into our temple… Ho ho ho!”

_ It wasn’t your temple _ , Nabooru screamed in her mind,  _ you fiends and your monsters don’t belong here! _

“We should teach this outrageous fellow a lesson! Hee hee hee!” Nabooru didn’t need to see it to know Koume was smiling. She loved to use their  _ toy _ to clean up their messes.

The witches moved to her sides and Nabooru finally had a clear look at the figure. Her heart sank. 

No, it couldn’t be.

No,  _ no. _ But it couldn’t have been anyone else. The same nose, the same determined gaze, he even still had the fairy over his shoulder. It really was the boy from all those years ago.

What was the kid doing here!? She would never forget his face; the brave little boy had been the last thing she saw before her freedom was stripped away. She had burned it into her memory, praying that she wouldn’t be the cause of his demise. He was so much older now—had that much time truly passed? She couldn’t fight the kid,  _ please _ , no. Why had he come back here after all these years!?

“Oh, loyal minion,” Koume and Kotake spoke as one. Nabooru tried desperately not to hear what came next, praying that she’d turn deaf, that her body would fall limp—anything that would prevent this. If only she could look away, if only she could— “Destroy this intruder on our behalf!”

The two witches vanished, off to watch their ghastly entertainment. Nabooru felt her body stiffly rise, an emotionless puppet carrying out an order. The kid wasn’t running, the expression on his face one of determination. This was not going to end well. 

She was an undefeated monster, and at this moment she had never felt so monstrous.

She felt her hands rise above her head to shake the axe in her hands… only for her body to realize her hands were empty. Even as she looked down, body portraying confusion over her mind’s cheer of anticipation, she fervently wished the kid would take the opening.  _ Strike now! While I’m unarmed! _

He only watched, eyes wide as her right hand reached up and summoned the axe with a snap and a puff of smoke that blocked him from her desperate gaze for a brief moment. Damned magic, damned witches, damned her for not being able to fight it! She took it in both hands and laughed with a hysteria parallel to the one she felt inside, the axe was ten tons of nothing to her numbed body. Even as she brandished it in a delight unfelt, the kid only widened his stance for battle once she did.

Too noble a warrior to attack before his opponent was ready?  _ Do you have a death wish _ ? she wanted to scream. He needed to take every opening this tincan gave!

Each step clanged as she walked towards him, heavy and bulky and goddess-blessed  _ slow _ . The weight of her armor kept her from advancing too quickly, and with luck the kid would still be as nimble as he was when they met. He took a defensive stance, shield held at the ready even though she knew it would crumple under her axe. He didn’t move even as she stepped into range, and Nabooru wished one last desperate prayer as her arm reached back to swing.

_ Please! _

Metal smashed into stone—the boy backflipped out of the axe’s path just in time, and the overreaching swing instead hit one of the stone pillars, turning it to rubble. A swing from above her head, this time, and he dodged to the side at the last moment. She tugged at it for a third strike, and to her delight she couldn’t. It was stuck in the ground.

This time, the kid took the opening. 

Her hands yanked at the axe, and the moment of inaction cost her—cost the  _ witches _ , she relished past the pain. A sensation that wasn’t under  _ their _ control. A blow to behind rattled her head even through the helmet, and as she fell to the side he delivered a blow, two, three to her side that almost felt like it hit flesh. It couldn’t have, not through the magical armor she was forced to wear, but the pain was something she didn’t mind—welcomed, even.

If there was any chance…!

The axe was free now, and her body lurched back into a ready position. The kid was keeping his distance now. Understandable, given how she had turned the pillar to dust. She had watched people be cleaved in two with a single blow from the damned weapon.

Her body walked with deadly purpose, the crunch of rubble unfelt under the metal armor. Her wounds ached, but orders were orders. She couldn’t stop until he was dealt with. The magic would keep her going through any pain.

In front of her, the boy backed up, step by careful step as his gaze burned into her. Without warning he lunged forward for a stab, closing the distance fast enough her body could only reflectively swing her axe in defense. He leapt out of the way, only barely avoiding the backswing. Her blood ran cold.

_ Watch your surroundings! _

The last dodge put him right up against the wall, and as he edged another step back his foot hit its base. Automatically his gaze flashed to look, and the split-moment he looked away, her arms raised the axe up high to bring down onto his head.

_ No! _

Metal howled as it swung down, and even if she could let go gravity would be enough to do all the work. She couldn’t even close her eyes—!

With a deafening clang, it bit into the ground. The kid’s roll took him far enough that the chips from the earth barely scratched skin, though one cut a sickly line of red across his cheek. He didn’t pause for a moment, bouncing to his feet and launching himself back at her. This time was different than the last attempt, her axe still stuck in the ground.

The sword stung like no other she had faced before. It pierced through the armor, white-hot pain echoing up her ribs. Something warm pooled down inside her prison: blood.

It didn’t last long. By the time the boy yanked his sword back out, her body was already stitching back together. The dark magic coursing through her veins mended even the armor, but it was, she reflected grimly, further than all her other victims have ever gotten. With one final tug, she pulled out the axe with mirthless resignation.

He was behind her now, half a step away from being out of range. A deft leap took him above the wave of lethal metal, and another sharp bite of his sword staggered her.

And that was when she noticed—the magic holding her, it was… weakening?

Not much, just a bare sliver. Just a bare sliver of resistance, not enough to even make her eyes shut against the control, but more than she’s had in  _ years _ .

A ragged hope fluttered in her chest. Maybe, just maybe… maybe he stood a chance. Maybe  _ she _ stood a chance.

_ Fight back _ , she commanded herself. Muscles creaked as she lurched forward, resistance almost non-existent—almost. Maybe enough to delay an attack for a fraction of a second, maybe enough to give the kid an opening.  _ Fight back! _

He was in front of her again, going for quick attacks, chipping at the monster before him. Even as her axe went flying, he pressed his offensive, silver glinting as he struck. With a grunt, her axe once again buried its edge into the ground. She couldn’t pull it up in time to avoid his blows, and through the armor she felt the heavy metal reverberate under his assault. The shock waves would have been enough to down a normal foe, but she stayed upright, unstaggered and seemingly unaffected.

The axe began to give under her pull, and her jaw locked as she fought to loosen her grip. No, not yet, just another moment! Whatever she could do to give him another opening!

It was just enough time—the axe gave under her grip, but not in time to block his slash from the right. Her wild reflexive swing blew right past him as he jumped out of the way, the backswing similarly avoided through a backflip, then—

His back hit the pillar behind him, and his shield flew up just in time to catch the axe before it could tear him asunder. The impact sent him flying across the room, much to her horror. His yell of pain echoed in the small chamber.

No, no! Not now, not when they were so close!  _ Get up! I’m coming! _

He laid on the ground and for a horrifying moment she wondered if the blow had finished him. Thankfully, he stood up, stumbling a little as she strode towards him, each step’s clang a death knell. His shield had protected him from the worst of the blow, but he still looked to be in bad shape. With how he was clutching his side, Nabooru had no doubt he had at least broken a rib from either the blow or the landing.

She tried to slow down her strides, give the kid just one more moment to recover before she bore down on him again. The effect was barely noticeable, a small hitch in her steps.

_ C’mon, kid _ , she thought desperately,  _ I can’t slow this tincan down much more than this! _

The kid shook his head and looked her way. There was a touch of fear behind his eyes, behind a mask of pure determination, but his gaze didn’t waver. The kid was brave, no question there. Hurt, bleeding, but still stubbornly gripping his shield and sword in hand.

He regained his balance just as she came within striking range, his shield raised once again to block her axe. Time passed like an eternity, her arms tense with deadly force, and she could see the realization that it wouldn’t be able to help him bloom in his eyes at the last second. 

The axe fell, the kid diving to the side, so narrowly escaping she wasn’t sure if she missed or not. Debris flew up, making her eyes water and her lungs spasm even if the body didn’t flinch, and she lost sight of him.

Where did he—?

Suddenly, she stumbled as pain pierced through from behind, the full weight of the small boy behind her pushing it deep even past the magical armor. It hurt, and she relished in it, gasping in agony. She could  _ feel _ it, the burn of the dark magic healing the injury, and she could feel it recede just a little bit more from her body as it dissipated in dark wisps.

Her turn to him was clunky— _ she could resist! _ —and he backflipped away before she could retaliate.

_ A few more hits! You can do it, kid! _

She needed to make another opening for him. She felt her arm start to pull back but somehow managed to jerk it up above her head. The downswing missed entirely, and he struck again as her grip tugged ineffectually at the stuck axe. Each blow was more painful than the last, the dark magic seeping out of her to keep her healed. 

With a final, mighty blow, she clattered to the side and  _ breathed. _ Her mind was clouded with glorious, glorious pain as her prison fell apart around her. 

It was excruciating, vivid, and  _ hers _ . It wasn’t dulled by the heavy armor, filtered through dark magic keeping her alive through anything. Her mind and body were one again, it was more than she’d felt in years, she may have lost the fight but she couldn’t help but feel triumphant.

Finally,  _ finally _ .

Through the pain, she wasn’t sure when she fell over. The world spun around her. Her body… she couldn’t stand; she hadn’t needed to in so long. Gravel dug into her forearms, and she marveled at the feeling. She’d caught herself, somehow—muscles… how did arms work? She couldn’t quite remember how to push herself to her feet, not even how to push herself into a sitting position.

Around her, the pieces of armor that had clattered to the ground exploded into puffs of smoke. Smoke, smoke… the witches! She had to stand, the witches were still nearby. She had to warn him, had to let him know she wasn’t a threat anymore.

She couldn’t be one if she tried, not now. It had been so long. Her hands were shaking as she looked at them against the stone floor. Smooth, brown hands, hands she hadn’t seen in seven long years no longer covered by black armor and once again in her control.  _ Stop shaking _ . And they did… well, mostly, as she clenched her fist. She was still pretty weak and shaking from the fight. But she had controlled her hand!

_ Focus, the kid is here. The witches will be back soon. _ She raised her head. She did. No one else. It was just her.  _ Focus.  _ “Unnnh,” was all she could manage to say. Come on, words. How did you make words? “Where am I?” Her voice was raspy and hoarse, weak from unuse. 

_ No, I know that one. Where are they, is the— _

“Well, well.” Kotake’s shrill voice came from her right, and ice ran down her veins. Nabooru struggled to one knee, the movement sending pain all through her body. Through her blurry eyes, she glared at the witch. “Looks like she’s back to normal… Koume…”

From her left, Koume made a faux-thoughtful noise. “She’s just a little girl, but she commands a lot of respect among the Gerudo, Kotake…” 

Nabooru wanted to laugh in disbelief. Her? It had been too long, surely; they had all but forgotten her by now, if they didn’t spit on her name for all she had done as Ganondorf’s puppet. She deserved no respect.

Kotake’s response made her freeze, petrified. “Maybe we should make her work for the great Ganondorf for a little while longer! Ho ho ho!” 

Her throat closed in panic. No, not again. She would rather die. She had to run. 

_ Run, run now _ ! she tried to scream. Her legs weren’t moving.

“Then we should brainwash her again! Hee hee hee!” For a moment, she felt weightless, numb, but then she saw the light form in the witch’s hands.

She’d rather die!

Her instincts kicked in, and for the first time in far too long she could listen to them. Nabooru sprinted past the kid. She couldn’t go through that again, she needed to get away—! 

Her hand brushed against the door when fire burned her skin and ice froze her to the core. She screamed as the witches’ magic enveloped her, trapping her in a prison of darkness and pain.

There was nothing, she was nothing, there was pain, she was—?

She couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything. She had to still be alive, unless death was only this endless pain. Her skin broiled, her guts froze. It was hellfire that was formless, one that consumed her entire being until she could tell nothing else.

It was so agonizingly familiar.

Again she was trapped in a prison of fire and ice.  _ Again _ . How could she be so stupid!? Seven years ago, she had allowed those witches to capture her and now she was in the same situation! She wouldn’t allow them to use her again, she  _ couldn’t _ —not again, never again. She had to break free! If a boy’s sword could weaken the magic and free her, there was no reason she shouldn’t be able to help herself!

_ Din give me strength, I will not let them control me again! _

The mind control had been too powerful, but this prison wasn’t nearly as refined. It had been done in a rush and it showed. While she couldn’t move, she could feel its weaknesses, points where the fire and ice were canceling each other out. She focused her thoughts on those points, trying to push against them.

“You cannot crush the Gerudo spirit! I will never bow to Ganondorf’s will!” She could feel something inside her, a light pushing against the darkness. “His evil  _ will  _ be punished, and his minions will fall!”

The light inside her was growing in strength, and suddenly she knew she wasn’t alone. A light from the outside was reaching out to her. She strained against her bonds, and with a gasp reached back towards it with all her might.

The world exploded into light.

It took a moment for her vision to clear. Once it did, she took in her surroundings. She wasn’t in the Spirit Temple anymore. This room was otherworldly, soft blue light emanated from silent waterfalls. She was standing on a strange platform, and in front of her an old man was smiling softly.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

What a stupid question, how would she know who he was? They had never—“Rauru,” her mouth answered on its own. The name came suddenly, and she looked around in alarm. Someone else controlling her?

“Just relax, the answers will come to you, as they did to us all.”

Nabooru closed her eyes and shook her head. To refuse or deny it, maybe, but the thought was lost as suddenly she  _ knew _ . 

She looked around at the platform in a new light. There were six large, medallion-like platforms around the edge, and a large depiction of the Triforce under her feet. Despite never having seen this place before, it was a sight that called out to her: an answer, a hope.

One of the platforms was hers. A calming light washed over her the moment she crossed over its boundary. Unlike her prison from before, this magic soothed her wounds and calmed her thoughts. 

She knew where she was. She knew  _ who _ she was, clearer than ever before. She even knew who the kid was, now. 

It fit, she supposed with a wry bark of laughter. Heroic acts done by an actual hero. Go figure.

The kid arrived, encased in a blue crystal light of his own. As he landed, she emerged from her medallion, smiling like she hadn’t in seven years.

“Kid, let me thank you,” she started. She had so much to thank him for, he had freed her, awoken her—where should she even begin? 

She looked him up and down and laughed. “Heheheh… Look what the little kid has become in the past seven years—a competent swordsman!” She smiled widely at him. It was a good thing, too! If he hadn’t been so skilled she could have…

“By the way… I really messed up…” That was an understatement. “I was brainwashed by those old witches and used by Ganondorf to do his evil will…” It had been horrible, but now wasn’t the time for lamentations.

“But isn’t it funny? That a person like me could turn out to be the Sage of Spirit?” A thief, controlled like a puppet by those she hated for seven long years. “And now I’m going to fight them as one of the six Sages! Heh heh… I’m going to pay them back for what they did to me!” She’d pay them back ten fold for all the lives they had uprooted using her.

“Kid… No… Link, the Hero of Time!” He truly deserved the title ‘Hero’ both for the kingdom, and for her personally. “Instead of keeping the promise I made back then, I give you this Medallion! Take it!”

She used her newfound power and condensed the strength of her spirit into solid form, a medallion of her power that would allow Link to tap into her strength. As he took the medallion she got a good look at him. 

He had grown into a fine young man.

As the light enveloped him to take him away once more, she smirked and mused to herself, “If only I’d known you would become such a handsome man…I should have kept the promise I made back then…”


End file.
